The Storm Breaks
by SamanthaRose
Summary: Shed your armor, shed your armor and live again...


This time, her daughter actually knocked on the door before using the key to enter, something that put a smile on her lips. She didn't move from the bed where she was resting, but Ambrosia did put her book down as she gazed at the stairs leading down to the entryway.

Leliandra came up the stairs a moment later, her face streaked with tears, her hair in disarray, clutching at the leather top she wore. There was a scarlet hibiscus tucked behind one of her ears...

She paused in the doorway of the bedroom, looking across at Ambrosia with a shy smile, her hand raising in a wave.

"... M-mother." She murmured softly, moving into the room. Ambrosia noticed that she had taken care to remove her shoes, her legs bare from the knee down. "I..."

"Are you alright?" The older woman asked.

"... yes... I'm..." Leliandra let out a laugh that dropped into hysterical giggles, her legs giving out on her. She dropped to the floor, burying her face in her hands, and Ambrosia shifted in her bed to see the girl better, worry bubbling up in her. Leliandra's shoulders shook...

It was obvious the girl was crying again. After a long moment, Leliandra looked up, still smiling, tears flowing freely down her cheeks now.

"Mother... how are you? Have you been ill, we were worried! I came to see... if you were alright. Mathais, he said he wrote you a letter, and hasn't received one in return." She said softly, Ambrosia letting out a startled laugh.

"Oh... I'm fine now. I was just a little sick, that's all. I'll pen him a letter immediatly." She pushed back the covers of the bed and slid onto the floor, crouching beside Leliandra. "Let's... talk about you, though. What... what happened?"

"I was just talking to Sain. And Arthaniel... and..." Her words faded off and her cheeks flushed darkly, her fingers straying to the flower in her hair. Ambrosia looked at it, raising an eyebrow, then took the time to look over the rest of the girl as she sat there.

Her chest, rising and falling with breath, breath that didn't have to be thought about, controlled. Her cheeks, wet with tears, flushed and her face glowing, that easy smile...

And her eyes. Leliandra's eyes were clear, focused, gleaming with a curious light. This was Leliandra, whole and sane, sitting in front of her now. This was her daughter, living and breathing, sitting in front of her now. Ambrosia shook her head slowly as she heard Leliandra speak.

" And the Wildman. I saw him again tonight... it's been a long time."

Ambrosia's eyebrow twitched, her mouth pulled into a tight line, and she let out a slow breath.

"Tell me... everything." She whispered.

...

...

She drifted to him as if by instinct... drawn by the scent of his cigars. She drifted to him, to where he had been, to where he might be, her appearance sickly and withdrawn but a smile still on her face.

It was easy to see the madness in her now, so far had she fallen since the last time they spoke. She found herself standing in the keep...

She found herself standing incredibly still as he walked right past her, his eyes downcast, his appearance even more dishevelled than ever... she fought the urge to speak to him, fought the urge to call his attention to her. Instead, she let him walk past...

And then she began to walk after him. Unable to stop herself, she giggled, giggled madly, watching him stop in the doorway of the keep. He was silent for a long time, inhaling deeply the air around him, drawing in her scent... he let out a feral roar, turning slightly to look at her as she stood leaning against the nearby wall. For a moment, she wondered if he didn't recognize her.

Had she mistaken him for someone else? No... how could she... how could this man be mistaken for any other?

"Wildman." She said, clasping her hands behind her back and tilting her head to the side. "Exile."

This seemed to jog his memory, and he jerked his head at her in a gesture that said to follow him, beginning to walk away. She followed without question, silent herself. They didn't stop until they reached the bridge...

The bridge where they had spoken for the last time. He had been bloodied, beaten then, lost without a way to go, no direction...

How long ago was that? Weeks? Months maybe? She had lost track of time this past little while.

He stood, she sat on the bridge, her legs swinging over the edge, looking up at him with a wide eyed sort of look. She was wearing an eye-patch... it was part of the costume she was wearing, one that Sain had inspired a long time before. She wore it tonight because she wanted to...

He stood over her, towered over her, the way he always did. He roared, growled deeply, the way he always did... She didn't speak, she simply stared, finally turning her gaze to the water beneath them.

It was then he chose to speak, his words provoking deep thought even in her scattered, foggy mind.

"Why do you even bother?" He asked. "Why do you bother continuing to live... for all the tomorrows that life will bring when all you may have is today?"

Leliandra pondered the question, gazing back up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the water. She didn't speak for a long moment, and when she did, it was simply to repeat the question a few times to herself, to him. Then she managed an answer, a look of confusion crossing her face.

"I have... something to live for, don't I?" She whispered to herself. "Something... something invisible, something that speaks through a letter every so often, something that I haven't seen in... I don't know how long it's been now." She took in a needless breath...

He asked her about her ghosts then, and though his converation, his words should have meant something, she found her eyes becoming unfocused, his words melting away as she stopped looking at him and started trying to see through him. She opened her mouth to speak...

"What... demons taunt you, Wildman? What ghosts... haunt your shattered halls? What do you run from, whose whips are at your heels, driving you ever forward into shadows?" She whispered to him. "Would you tell me? Would you trust me enough to tell me? This girl... who doesn't even know your name? Would you share with me... your agony? Your burden?"

He looked down at her... and then he smiled. He laughed. He growled, he roared... Leliandra stared at him once more.

"It's something for fools and madmen only." He said. "For surely, it would chase away anything remaining in your mind, fill it completely with madness. Either that, or... I'd have to kill you."

She was silent for a time, then she took in another needless breath, looking back at the water.

"Would I welcome it?" She whispered. "... I suppose... I only asked to share your agony because I want to feel... I want to feel something. I don't... feel. I haven't for some time. I leap from tall buildings to feel my heart race. I dive too deep into water to see how long I can hold my breath." She let her lashes lower halfway. "I... cling to something... hardly ever there... because I want to feel... agony. So why should I not welcome the pain of death? At least it means I could feel... something."

"Because you are already dead." He reached down suddenly, taking her chin in his hand. He drew her up to her feet, so she was facing him, and once more, she felt the lack of her racing heart and heaving chest... She could smell him, only him, his scent all his own, untained. She stared up at him with one wide eye not covered by an eye-patch, stared at his scarred, gruff face, his fierce expression, felt his cold breath wash over her as he leaned down a little closer to her. The cigar clenched between his teeth sent smoke curling about his head.

"And as long as you hang onto this madness, you will never feel again."

She sucked in a sharp breath, opening her mouth to speak, horror blossoming in her face. Her eyes slid completely out of focus, and this time... they didn't slide back.

"... then..." She gasped. "What's the point? Why bother at all?"

"You're wearing rusted armor." The wildman said, leaning closer still. "And if you don't unwear that rusty armor, you will never get better. As long as you hide inside it, you will be out of touch with the world."

"Rusted... armor... never feel... never feel again. I have to... unwear..." She babbled, running her hand down the front of her body, over the leather armor she wore, and he jerked her chin, drawing her up even more, up onto her toes, nearly off of them, leaning down even closer. Her roared, he rumbled, the vibration shaking the very ground around them.

"Quiet. You're just babbling now, you're not listening." He growled. He was so close now, the tip of his cigar came very close to her skin, very close to burning her. The ashes from it waved up around her, and she was drowning in the smell of it, the smell of him.

Now, her chest was heaving... now she felt something. She felt... terrified... confused... fascinated.

Then he began to call to her ghosts... he began to peel back the layers, and she could see the madness in his eyes. He called forth his own ghosts to show her the ghosts inside her. He called forth his own ghosts to show her where hers had come from, and what to do... how to be rid of them.

Was that his purpose, was that what he wanted to do?

She let out a strangled noise, a tortured sound, unable to tear her eyes away from him.

"You are telling me... to let go of the one thing that I thought was holding me together... you are telling me, in order to live again, I have to fall apart."

"Unwear your rusted armor." He said again, then his lips almost brushed hers, and he pulled sharply away, dropping her to her feet again. She barely caught them to keep herself from toppling into the water, another gasp escaping her. "It's so rusted, I can smell it from my own grave."

He turned and began to walk away. Leliandra caught her breath, holding out her hand to him.

"I-I... I..." she stammered. He stopped, but didn't bother turning to look over his shoulder at her. She clutched her hand to her chest. "I..."

"Make a decision." He snarled. She shook her head, her voice growing frantic. Now, she could feel her chest heaving harder, the pain of her breath burning through her... she felt...

She felt her heart beginning to thunder. She felt the tears in her eyes, the tears that threatened to spill forth.

"I will... unwear my armor. I will shed my rusty armor... to feel again. To live again. I want to live again!" She cried. All at once, it was as though a dam broke inside her...

Feelings she had long forgotten, long craved came pouring forth.

"Show your scars, your pain..." The wildman growled.

Her hands reached up, and she tore the eyepatch from her face, dropping it to the ground. Her cloak soon followed.

"My scars..." She gasped. "I have been hiding them for so long. I..."

"Don't hide them. Scars are nothing to be ashamed of. Show your scars... scars mean you have survived, unlike the rest of the people who no longer stand here among the living."

"I won't hide them..." She removed her spiked shoulderpads, tossing them to the bridge to join her cloak. She removed her gloves, her bracers, began to loosen her belt.

Shed your armor, she thought. Shed your armor, live again...


End file.
